Out of his time
by GirlDressedInBlack
Summary: The unstable Time Lady is able to survive certain death but when the Doctor dies there's nothing left for her to hold on to. MistressxDoctor of sorts. Angst and trigger warnings inside.


Inspired by Carol Ann Duffy's poem 'Mrs Lazarus' because it's beautiful. Angst, trigger warnings for character death, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempts, suicide and (in case you couldn't guess) it's not following canon. I own nothing. A somewhat experimental piece.

 _We never had anything concrete._

 _The Doctor and I._

 _Only whispers in the dark as young boys sharing a room and the fumbled kisses between conquest and adventure as we set off on our different paths._

 _The Doctor had died one day._

 _Just- pop- like that. No breathing, no beats in his chest and it hurt so much._

The Mistress held his head to her chest, smoothing back the mess of floppy hair.

"No." She licked her lips frantically, pressing fingers against his neck, clawing at his mind with hers.

"No." His eyes closed gently as he let out a last sigh.

"You're alive- I knew it." His mind spins off into nothingness with the ghost of a smile on his cold lips. Still she clutches at the space where it used to be, holding on to the raw edges of her hearts which he had held and trying to feel him somewhere.

"No." Nothing.

The Doctor is gone.

"No." She kisses him fiercely, his body unresponsive.

"No- you can't!" She gives her energy, pours it into him, ignores the pain she feels as her own life force spirals out, unable to bring him back.

"No!" He can't die! She screams at him.

"No!" She looks next at the insect-like creatures. One cocks it head, still holding the spear. It says something incomprehensible.

"No!" She takes the spear and kicks the thing, her heeled boot cracking through its brittle exoskeleton. It crumples to the ground.

"You will suffer for this!" She cries out, thrusting her white knuckled fist through another.

They all fall upon her but in a rush of thick blood and the crunch of flesh against bone they each fall away again, the strange screeches echoing in their stupid craft and Missy gathers him up while they still ooze out green fluid.

She can't even feel the presence of his Tardis as she places him against the console.

"You're going to be okay!" She can feel the hysteria coming on.

"You're going to be okay!" She screeches, fist crashing into the control panel.

"I can save you! I do it all the time- I can do it for you!" The Mistress shrieks at his unconscious face.

He doesn't respond as she tenderly wipes the slime from his face and presses a soft kiss against his lips. She rests her forehead against his, closing her eyes to bring herself closer to his pose.

"I will not let you die." She holds his face in her hands, tears spilling down her own cheeks.

"Doc-tor. You can't! You can't! Doctor!" The Tardis hums in sorrow, unwilling to leave for its final destination with her still aboard.

"No!" She repeats, "I'm not leaving! The Doctor will _not_ die!" She lands another hit against the control panel.

So she stays.

For days she cries over his body, trying desperately to force her own energy into him again and again.

She stares at her aged hand, wearied body collapsed next to his.

"I'm dying too Doctor." She says.

"I'm dying over you and you can't even see it." She tears the clothes from her wrist, uncaring as the expensive pieces are torn apart in her desperation.

"See!" She proclaims, standing before him, every thread pried from her form.

"See!" She proclaims, mad eyes shining as she crashes down to the metal grate.

"I'm dying Doctor." She weeps now, staring disgustedly at the thin skin and brittle bones left behind without enough regeneration energy to sustain her.

"It hurts but I'm fucking dying for you- why can't you have the decency to just breathe again!" She crawls across the floor, resting her head at his feet.

"I'm dying for you Doctor. I'm _aging_ quicker than some common human Doctor and it _hurts_." Her voice is a broken whisper as she holds the brooch in her hand, trying to imprint the face into her palm.

When madness claws too deep she begins to tear the place down. The Tardis begins purging rooms just to prevent the Mistress' destruction as she scrabbles for him. She searches each room for him- calls out for him as if everything were one big game.

"Haha- I can't find you here Doc-tah! Where the hell have you gone off to now?" She rolls her eyes at the ceiling as if there were an audience watching.

She turns swiftly, reaching out as if to grab something.

"What." She stares at her hand distraught.

"No." She falls backwards, her back hitting the wall as her now ragged nails attempt to find stability in the metal.

"No." She weeps again.

"Where are you Theta- I can't see you! Where did you go? We said we'd do this together! I'm scared!" Her wide eyes stare around and she flinches from an imagined threat.

"No! Not that! Where is he? Please- I need him- please! Don't hurt him! NO!" Then her face blanks and she stands silently.

"I won't let you die Doctor. I promise." Blood drips from the broken skin on her fingertips.

"I promise."

Amidst delusion, horrid memories and the pain of reality she guts the Tardis of everything except her heart.

Then she rests at his feet, whispering his name to the dying air.

"I miss you but I'll bring you back. I promised. Doctor." The once proud Time Lady curls into a ball, her head lying against the metal just beyond his shoes.

More than once she takes the remains of her fabric or some discarded wire and fashions a noose. The ceiling is given yet another for the collection when the Mistress stares at his body, head tilted ever so slightly as if he were just sleeping.

No. She decides. He will wake up soon.

She takes his shoes from him- she knows it can hurt if you have too small shoes when you regenerate.

Sometimes she falls into fitful sleep, dreaming of him and waking with her hands between her thighs.

She cries in disgust then at her own mind, painting red scars of his death across her mindscape.

Her voice eventually gives out and so she sits beside him, raw fingers disturbing the dried blood as they circle around the edge of the brooch again and again.

"Mistress." Her gaze snaps up and even with her slowly failing vision she can see him.

"You need to go dear." He smiles softly, his hand brushing her cheek. She clutches his hand desperately.

"'oc't'r…" He lets her cry against his chest, solid and warm and real.

"You can rest now Mistress. It'll be like old times. I go and mess up whatever evil plot you can cook up." He wiggles his fingers oddly and she lets out a broken chuckle.

"C'mon. Aren't you fed up of being on here? I got the impression you weren't fond of my old girl." She smiles, lips cracking for lack of moisture and spilling fresh blood down her chin. The Doctor frowns.

"Mistress. You need to see a doctor- a real one. You are very unwell." Carefully he helps her to stand and she lets him clothe her.

"Now be careful with yourself until we meet again- okay?" She lets out a contented sigh, feeling the thread of his fingers through her hair as his thumb rests against her temple.

The Tardis materialises and the Mistress leaves after the Doctor presses a slip of paper into her hand.

"Goodbye, Koschei." Her gaze snaps to the Tardis as the Doctor's voice turns decidedly feminine.

He smiles softly and the Mistress can see the flash of gold in his eyes as the doors slam shut.

"Thank you for mourning with me, child of time." The words echo in her head.

"No!" The Tardis begins to disappear and the Mistress tries to run back to it- collapsing to the dirt as her weakened legs give way.

"No!" She reaches for it even as it fades into nothingness.

"No." She lies on the ground until someone crouches by her side.

"Are you okay? I'm a doctor- I might be able to help." The woman holds out a hand for her and the Mistress looks up, barely able to keep the wonder from her face, "I'm Martha Jones- what's your name." The Mistress manages two words before blacking out.

"The Master."

The Mistress awakens in a white room. She can feel the drip of drugs into her bloodstream and attempts to pull the tubes from her arm only to find herself unable to move.

"I thought you would wake up soon. What's the Master doing on our planet again?" The girl sneers, standing safely beyond the Mistress' reach even if she could move.

"It's Mistress now…" Although repaired her voice is hollow. The girl stares.

"What?" The Time Lady stares at the ceiling.

"My name- I'm the Mistress now." The human says nothing- just stares at the subdued Time Lady.

The silence between them stretches on.

"What are you doing on Earth?" Martha asks again.

"Existing." It's all she can do now. The girl seems incredulous.

"Really?" The Mistress doesn't look at her. Says nothing.

"Oh God- he's dead isn't he? He's dead!" The awful truth dawns over Martha and she steps away from the Time Lady as if she were the monster that had killed him.

"Shut up!" Martha goes silent and just watches as the Mistress attempts to turn her face away so she can't see the tears.

"You've changed." The restraints click back into the bench. The Time Lady just lies there.

"That's why you never killed him. You loved him." The Mistress stares onward.

"I want to die." She isn't sure why she tells the human- perhaps because she too had felt some form of love for the Doctor- perhaps she just needs to tell someone.

For months the Mistress lay there, allowing the human to keep her alive for whatever reason the human had decided to.

"You know you should get out- do something. You can't mourn him forever."

The Mistress doesn't care.

Each second without him is forever and she will gladly wait until past the end of time for him.

One day- she isn't quite sure why- she stands on barely functioning limbs and walks.

The Mistress walks for days and days- she knows this only through her intuitive sense of time- until she comes to a cliff-top.

The air rushes around her as she looks off into the distance and takes that final step.

Seconds too late a hand grabs for her arm.

As the Mistress falls she swears she feels the Doctor's mind grasp for hers.

On the top of the cliff stands a thin, grey-haired man. He has no shoes and holds a blood encrusted brooch.

"No."


End file.
